Impact
by divakat
Summary: For the Lie To Me lives challenge. Cal, Gillian, the show is on the other foot.


**Written for the Lie To Me lives challenge. I wish I was able to feel happytiems on a day like today but sadly, I feel it all slipping away. **

**Not to worry, I am sure I will have happytiems for these two again but today...well, this is it.**

**No smut, just a quick one shot.**

**I hate you FOX...forever. Even if you did hire back TR and Kelli. **

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><p>The feeling of her fist connecting with his jaw brought an unbelievably solid satisfaction that reverberated through her entire body. The impact that started as her knuckles connected hard with bone, soft skin, and scratchy stubble traveled through her arm to her shoulder and straight down her spine, radiating out as physical pain replaced the emotional pain flowing like a fiery torrent through her veins.<p>

She looked at him just long enough to see the incredibly shocked look on his face and notice that she had drawn blood with her right hook, turned on her heal and strode quickly from his library.

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><p>Gillian Foster applied ice to her right hand as she nursed her swollen knuckles and attempted to stem the tide of anger that had erupted from the severe bruising to her ego.<p>

She had kissed him. At this moment she couldn't say what in the world had possessed her to do it. One moment she was embracing him the way she had done a million times over and the next she had placed her mouth to his, finally surrendering to everything she felt, everything she thought they both wanted.

He had pushed her away.

She couldn't wrap her head around it. He. Had. Pushed. Her. Away. After 8 years of "love" this, and "darling" that, after how many late night calls and trips to her doorstep, after hundreds of attempts on his part to get to her, to sabotage ANY relationship she tried to have, HE was rejecting HER?

The name "Lightman" caught the edge of her gaze as their corporate screen saver blinked on and she fought the overwhelming urge to sweep the entire contents of her desktop onto the floor. The mere sight of his name made her want to vomit and she quickly freed a picture of the two of them from its crystal frame at the corner of her desk and ripped it in two, making sure to slice his head firmly in half. She tore it again, and then twice more for good measure, casting the tiny fragments onto the floor, not even bothering with the trash.

Surprisingly, this simple and petty act felt so utterly delightful that she quickly gathered up every picture she had of him and gave it the same treatment, a satisfied smile crept onto her lips as the slick photo paper slipped through her fingers, made such a smooth and rewarding tearing sound as Cal Lightman's image was shorn into bits. Scattered pieces of his hair, his lips, his hands, lay strewn everywhere on the floor of her office. When she ran out of photos she turned to stationary, tearing the Lightman name to tiny tiny fragments and tossing the remnants into the air so that they rained down around her like so much confetti.

The sound of someone clearing his throat brought her out of her reverie and she turned quickly to find the subject of her ire standing just inside her doorway.

"Mind telling me what the hell is going on here, love?" he asked quietly, one hand holding an ice pack to the side of his face where a dark bruise had already begun to form.

"Something I should have done a long time ago."

"And what is that, exactly?" he asked, daring to edge a little closer to her.

"Letting go, Cal. Letting go," she replied with a deeper sigh than she had intended.

"And this is because I didn't kiss you?" he tilted his head and moved in.

She turned away, unable to meet his probing gaze, knowing that the truth was etched deeply in every line of the fake smile on her lips.

"Gillian, let me ask you this, how many times have I let you know I wanted more from our relationship?" He was right behind her now.

"You NEVER said…" she tried.

"How many times, Gillian?" his hand was on her shoulder now and she reluctantly turned to face him.

"I don't know," she sighed.

"And how many times did you push me away?" He asked gently, pushing a strand of hair away from her face.

"But you weren't serious, Cal, you were just being…" she couldn't find the words around the lump forming in her throat.

"Wasn't I?" His arms slid around her and she stood still, refusing to embrace him. "How many times Gillian?" he whispered in her ear.

"Too many," she sobbed, hands knotting in the fabric of his shirt as she held tight.

"Yes, love. Too many."


End file.
